


wands, fangs, and fur

by PastelMogar



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: M/M, Vampires, Werewolves, halloween fic, witches/warlocks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-09
Updated: 2016-11-09
Packaged: 2018-08-30 00:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8511373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PastelMogar/pseuds/PastelMogar
Summary: To say it was a dark and stormy night would've been an understatement. ~*~*~*~A late Haloween fic. Featuring; Gavin as a warlock in training, Smee as the questionable familiar, Broomy the Broom, and a perfectly normal vampire bat. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°).DISCONTINUED





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Roostertease_it](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roostertease_it/gifts).



> About a week late, but i wasn't going to wait until next Halloween to post this. I guess it still has a Autumn vibe to it, so that'll have to do.
> 
> This came as a result of a contest I won on tumblr held by [Roostertease_it](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Roostertease_it/pseuds/Roostertease_it) ! I asked for a Raywood fic where Ryan was a warlock and Ray was a vampire, gave her a vague plot, and let her do the rest! This fic and her's both take place in the same universe and you can find the Raywood parallel [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8511469) !
> 
> Because the fic [Roostertease_it](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Roostertease_it/pseuds/Roostertease_it) wrote was my prize from a contest I won, I can't guarantee any updates from that fic, but if Sophie wants to continue it, that's her choice and if not, with her permission, I might continue it myself! 
> 
> But for now, I hope you enjoy!! °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

To say it was a dark and stormy night would've been an understatement.

The wind was violent, slashing at his face and tearing at his clothes, wiping his robes into a frenzy. Leaves were torn from their branches, and in some cases, branches torn from their trunks with a loud **crack** , scattering splinters to the air and ground below.  

The rain was frigid and harsh. The water was falling so fast and so hard, it felt painful when the drops hit his skin and if he looked, Gavin wouldn’t be surprised if he found red streaks and bruises marring his skin.

Not so long ago, a branch had fallen _just_ to his left, grazing his arm and trapping his long coat to the ground. It took a few hard tugs before the fabric gave and tore, leaving the garment jagged and ruined. His arm stung from where the branch had touched him and the sleeve had been ripped, now flapping like a sail at the wind’s mercy. His hand shook when he reached to touch the skin, though from the shock or the cold, he didn't know.

It didn't feel like worse than a bad scratch, but still, the ordeal had left him a little more than shaken. Merlock, what he would've given in that moment just to teleport himself home, where it was safe and warm and dry.

There wasn't a single part of him that wasn't drenched, shivering or aching and every step he took was fought for. It took enough strength just to keep himself upright and however he'd managed to get as far as he had, Gavin was grateful.

At that point, all Gavin knew was that he was rather desperately clutching his hat and that he was tired, the need to sleep hanging like fog around his mind, dragging him down almost as much as the rain and wind itself.

But he could just see the lights flickering in Geoff’s tavern not too far ahead and Gavin knew he’d be alright as long as he could get there.

How he managed to hear the scree over the howling wind that filled his ears, Gavin didn't know and despite himself, he followed the sound. 

He nearly missed the small creature, a black spot against a black background, but as he drew closer, it was easier to see.

The bat clung to the chain link fence the wind had pinned it against, looking about as exhausted and waterlogged as Gavin felt. He reached out, too numb to be scared or to rationally think about his actions, just gently prying it away from the icy metal, not that it took much effort.

The bat screeched again, obviously confused, and weakly fought against him and struggled in his hand, but thankfully it didn't bite him. Gavin’s patience was worn thin and he really wasn't in the mood to fight this small, ungrateful vermin about saving its life from hypothermia, but he managed to still the creature, if only a little.

When it had calmed, it didn't take much to coax the bat into his coat and as much as he wanted to start moving again and get home, Gavin waited until he felt it’s tiny claws snag onto his robes before he started walking.

For the rest of the trip, Gavin was acutely aware of the warm spot against his chest where the bat was clinging, its small rapid heartbeat beating against his own and he focused on it as he shuffled on. A flash of light and the growl of thunder made both of them jump and Gavin hurried on faster.

How Gavin managed to find his keys and open the door to his flat was a miracle in itself, and it was another miracle that he didn't immediately collapse as soon as the door slammed shut behind him, more an act of the storm than himself.

Fully aware of the tiny animal in his coat, Gavin took it off methodically, not caring about the fucked up sleeve or hemming, just letting drop to the ground in a wet heap.

It takes a few seconds of persuading before the bat let go of his robe and climbed onto his hand, then a repeat of the process when he urged it to crawl out of his palm and settle onto his ageing, battered loveseat.

Gavin watched the bat for a moment, the way it’s whole body moved with each breath. From what he could tell, it seemed more relaxed, or at the least, it wasn't panicking. Gavin was flooded with relief, more than he'd expected to feel for such an itty, bitty thing. 

A freak wave of fatigue hits him a second later and suddenly his legs are giving out from under him, the floor quickly rising up to meet him.

Gavin has no doubt that he would've injured himself impressively if his broom hadn't caught him.

He can feel the long handle pressing against his chest and underneath his arms, barely registering it when the broom slowly starts to float up until he’s more or less on his feet. 

Gavin mumbles a quiet, hushed thank you and the broom shudders in response, but whether is out of annoyance or concern, he can't be sure.

The broom doesn't move until he's more or less standing (albeit, shakily) on his own. Gavin’s left alone for maybe two seconds before the broom returns to him, now upright and walking around like something out of Fantasi. Though instead of actual arms, the shaft just peels, creating long, noodle like appendages that work more like tentacles and move without any signs of a joint.

The new limbs curl around his wrists and forearms and Gavin tries not to wince when he feels the pinprick of splinters against his skin. It’s not the first time Gavin’s had to be lead around like a puppy, but usually, this happens as a result of a late night out and one too many drinks, with Gavin just too out of it to even take three steps before landing flat on his nose.

He never thought this would happen under such different circumstances. 

The broom continues to tug Gavin along, no doubt guiding him towards the kitchen, although he'd much rather sleep than eat.

Something nudges the back of his legs and he stumbles, tripping over his own two left feet.

Gavin glances down and his mood immediately brightens when he sees his cat, weakly cooing at Smee, who only glares back up at him as if to say, “What the fuck happened to you this time?” Luckily, the broom stops and catches him, helping Gavin steady himself as it  ‘scowls’ at Smee, who only seems to return the heated look. 

The exchange is enough to make him laugh, a scratchy, breathless sound that only leads to a coughing fit.

If a broom and a cat could look worried, right now, they would.

Gavin closes his eyes and fades out a bit, vaguely aware of Smee’s head pressing against his calf and of the broom’s insistent guiding. When he opens his eyes, he can't recall the walk to the kitchen or when he was sat down on the stool he’s currently seated in and then, deciding the details aren't that important, shuts his eyes once more.

~*~*~*~

It wouldnt strike him until later, when he’s more awake and actual able to walk by himself, that he could've died in that storm.

Lighting sets the sky ablaze outside the kitchen window and a deep, deafening **boom** makes the entire house quake, and Gavin reminds himself again that he could’ve died in the storm, in _this_ storm, reminds himself that it hasn't quite passed yet.

Gavin’s sitting on the loveseat, a quilt wrapped around his shoulders and a cup of tea coddled in his hands. Smee lies curled up in his lap, a soft, grey, loaf of cat and the broom’s off in the corner, tinkering with a radiator so ancient, it’s more of a fire hazard than anything else. Gavin’s told Geoff on multiple occasions that the thing was a house fire waiting to happen, only to be shrugged off and told something like, “That piece of shit’s been alive for as long as I have, it fucking stays.”

Which was nowhere near the truth, because Geoff talks about visiting Rome when Julius Caesar was emperor as if it happened last week rather than literal centuries ago.

Usually, the broom stayed as far away from that death wish as physically possible and the fact that it was actually _touching_ the radiator…

He looks down at Smee, notices how his claws are dug into the quilt, the way his trembling comes with no sound, no usual purr... 

Gavin takes a sip of his tea and tries not to think about what any of that means.

Instead he recounts what happened in the kitchen for the fourth or fifth time, taking another sip of tea and letting it burn his tongue before he swallows.

He'd woken up a few times from when he dozed off back in the kitchen, greeted by both the sounds of the broom clanging around in the bathroom and by Smee delivering different bottled potions, some of them meant to deter illness, other simply just labeled ‘Healing’, which he could only assume were meant for the cut on his arm.

The cat would stare at him until he took the vial and drank its contents before padding off again.

Gavin would fall asleep between these small breaks and be awoken again a few minutes later by either the storm or by his familiar to take another potion.

By the time the broom returned, Gavin was already in far better shape than he'd been in, the pain he had felt mostly gone and the gash on his arm already scabbed over and shrinking. The broom’s spindly arms had grabbed him and pulled him out of the kitchen, and seeing as he could successfully function on his own, pushed him into his bedroom and shut the door behind him. 

Just the idea of taking a shower felt draining, not to mention he'd had enough water for the night. He changed, throwing of his sopping robes and pulling on the warmest, softest pajamas he could find, topping it off with a sweater he'd stolen from Jack not too long ago. It swallowed him, the sleeves just a tad too long for him and the torso was no where close to hugging his own thin frame.

The deep green was comforting and the cotton smelled like the woods, smoke, and most prominently of dog.

He'd opened the door to his room, only to be greeted by Smee. He followed the cat back into the living room, pulled the quilt from where it was lying on the back of the couch, and wrapped it around himself before sinking into the worn piece of furniture. 

Smee had jumped up with him and the broom had passed by a few minutes later, pressing a hot mug into his hands.

And now Gavin was curled up completely on one of the seat cushions, his toes barely touching the one the bat was lying on. He studied it, the way the bat looking even smaller than it had before with all the space around it, an inky spot against the sofa’s horrendous faded flower print.  

 A damp water stain circled the creature like a coffee ring. It didn't bother him; most of Gavin’s furniture was as old as the radiator, a mess of mismatched junk Geoff helped him get from yard sales and warehouses and occasionally, lonely sidewalks.  

Even though they'd both been through the same storm, the bat looked like it’d fared far better than he had. Gavin could barely tell the difference between it’s shudders and it’s breath and it'd gone out like a light the moment he'd set it down.

Just thinking of sleep reminded Gavin of how tired he was, and though the tea had woken him up a bit, caffeine wasn't going to fix the overall heaviness he felt pressing down on him. 

The radiator has been on for a while, slowly warming up until it was blazing as hot a fire, filling the house with heat and only making the lull of sleep more tempting.

Gavin shifted and Smee got the message, jumping off and landing on the floor gracefully. He stood, far less gracefully, the quilt falling from his shoulders and flowing off the edge of the couch, a knitted waterfall.

He grabbed the seemingly out of place cooking mitten off the floor as he stumbled towards the old death trap, slipping it on and quickly turning of the radiator before dropping it back down to where he’d found it.

Gavin made the short trek to the kitchen, setting the mug down in the sink to clean later. He nearly tripped over his discarded coat and added it to his list of things to clean, stepping over it to deal with in the morning.

Passing the couch one last time on his way back to the bedroom, Gavin paused. He looked down at the bat and even though it didn't _seem_ cold, he reached over the back of the couch to grab the quilt and with care, draped it over the small creature.

Gavin watched for a moment, trying to see if he’d disturbed it, but if he had, the bat gave away nothing.

After watching for a while longer, Gavin turned away, flicking off the lights and coating the living room in darkness. The frequent flashes of lightening were enough to guide him and Gavin had a sudden flashback to when he'd been out in the storm, using the light for the same purpose.

Gavin threw back the duvet and crawled beneath the sheets, ignoring the thunder that might've made him jump if he had to energy to do so. He curls around himself, hugging a pillow to his chest and willing the bed to grow warmer faster.

While the radiator had done it’s job, it worked best if you were actually in the same room, not to mention the heat always dissipated quickly in the autumn months.

He barely felt the bed dip when Smee hopped up, curling up the way Gavin had on the other side of the the bed. It was comforting to know he was there with him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this tiny, quiet house.

As Gavin sunk further into the mattress, he thought, looking through memories, stupid rhetorical questions, anything to distract himself from the typhoon that was raging on outside.

His mind drifts to the broom. Why had it helped him so much today? Well, he knew _why. But_ usually that broom fought him tooth and nail at anything, refusing to be helpful and cooperative, half the time threatening to kick him off when they were flying.

Gavin hoped it hadn't locked itself back in that closet. As stupid as it might sound to feel grateful towards a broom, Gavin was. How was he going to make it up to that thing? He couldn't very well buy it a gift 

He sighs and turns onto his other side, mind wandering towards the bat passed out on his couch. Where had it come from? Even though it had looked ok, Gavin knew better than anyone just how terrible this storm had been. What if it'd been hurt and he hadn't noticed? 

Gavin shook his head and sighed heavily. He was stressing himself out over nothing. The bat was fine; he'd seen it breathing, it hadn't looked injured, and Gavin was being paranoid over nothing.

Stubbornly, Gavin squeezed his eyes shut, trying to remember what Ryan had told him about meditation and ridding yourself of distractions.

When sleep finally found him, thoughts of the little, black bat still plagued him.

**Author's Note:**

> I already have a little bit of the second chapter done, so hopefully an update isn't too far in the future! 
> 
> Please comment and give kudos if you're enjoying yourself so far, it really inspires me to keep going! If you'd like to shoot me an ask on [tumblr](http://pastelmogar.tumblr.com/), chat about this fic on the messaging system, or even follow me [（＊〇□〇）……！], don't hesitate!


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